


Someone Call The Doctor

by Gala_and_Elle, gala_apples



Series: Slantverse [16]
Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alternate Universe - BDSM, Alternate Universe - High School, M/M, Medical Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-11
Updated: 2012-02-11
Packaged: 2017-10-30 23:47:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/337555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gala_and_Elle/pseuds/Gala_and_Elle, https://archiveofourown.org/users/gala_apples/pseuds/gala_apples
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Instead of going to Gerard's meeting, Mikey gets laid.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Someone Call The Doctor

Mikey heads for Pete’s locker after class. The halls are just beginning to fill, the more impatient doms attaching leashes. Although you’re technically not supposed to on school grounds, a lot of teachers are willing to look past the dress code violation at the end of the day. 

Mikey leans against the metal bank until Sisky stops beside him, Pete a few steps behind him. Sisky says hello, Pete says “Sisky, grab his shit.”

Mikey eyes Sisky and moves his iPod to his pocket before giving him his backpack. He wants Sisky to be happy, but if he topples from carrying three bags Mikey doesn’t want his iPod broken. 

“Any thoughts about going out?” 

Mikey knows Gerard has his first alliance meeting, but Mikey isn’t planning on going. Everyone else will go, or at least enough of their group to make Gerard happy. Mikey loves his brother, but he has to live with him. That means he’ll be asked his opinion on every poster, on every objective. Hell, Mikey can see Gerard both taking and then reading him the minutes from the meeting. There’s no reason to experience it twice. 

“Yeah?” Pete shrugs like it’s not really a question. “Ryan’s.”

“I was thinking Imagine Studios?” Ryan’s is great for at least a few nights a week. But sometimes Mikey wants to get laid, and most of his friends are already coupled up. Besides, he’s been with most of them. Whenever possible, he likes novelty.

“I dunno. That’s not really my thing. There are only so many times you can be a tennis player using equipment improperly.”

“Come on. Use the teacher/student room.”

Pete snorts. “That’s creepy, dude. Mr Norton got fired last week for spanking a student.”

Mikey would explain that that’s the fun of role playing; using the roles to play in ways actual practitioners wouldn’t. Real teachers can’t sexually assault students, and real farmers don’t fuck real animals. Gerard’s the lecturing brother though, and if Pete doesn’t want to then he doesn’t want to.

“At least give me a ride.” He doesn’t really have to ask, he knows Pete will. 

*

Imagine Studios might not be the most favourite of all the places he has a membership to, but it is pretty awesome. Five years ago the owners bought and renovated a hotel, turned it into a club. Each room is a scenario; jail cell, barn, library stacks. Some are double rooms linked by a inner door, like the heaven/hell scenario. If you’re creative, you can get a lot of different experiences.

There’s only one person in the waiting room of the doctor’s office. He’s pretty hot, but there’s no question that he wants to be the patient. From where he’s standing Mikey can’t tell if the cast on his leg is self created, or if he’s into the scene so much he actually self harmed to get that situation. Mikey had thought of being the patient. He still could be, of course. If he got out his iPod he and the stranger could sit in the waiting room until a doctor came to take care of both of his or her patients. But being a patient isn’t a strong need of his, and there’s a shitty reality show he wants to catch later.

“I’m sorry I’m running late. My car- Well, never mind. It’s hardly relevant. Give me a moment?” 

Without waiting for the guy to answer Mikey passes through the thin corridor between the rows of chairs to head for the office. There’s not really a need to talk about this with him. If he doesn’t want Mikey he can say his doctor is actually Doctor Chambers, and if later he doesn’t want to be tied to a weight scale, he can just say so. One of the good things about role playing is it doesn’t take much to get out of a situation. Breaking character is essentially safewording.

There are a few different white jackets hanging on the back of the door. Mikey tries on the first. The arms are far too short, and the back barely stretches from shoulder blade to shoulder blade. It feels like it’s going to rip if he moves at all. Destroyed equipment is factored into membership, as are use of disposables, so it would be okay in that way. It’s just not comfortable, and being uncomfortable will throw him out of his role. He struggles out of it and hangs it back up. The second jacket fits better.

He opens the door and calls out “Erik Lance?”

The guy stands and slowly begins to hobble towards the office door. Apparently Mikey is close enough to what he wants for this to work. Mikey grants Erik a small smile. It’s a doctor’s job to make the patient feel at ease.

“Please sit.” Mikey gestures to the two chairs beside his desk, sinking himself into his own plush swivel chair. Erik chooses instead to sit on the padded table. Mikey doesn’t say anything. If that makes the patient happier there’s no reason to push the issue.

“Forced inactivity often causes issues with other parts of a person’s system. Normally healthy people can find themselves unhealthy at the end of the six weeks.” 

Mikey is totally bullshitting. He doesn’t know anything about casts, he’s never broken a limb and neither has Gee. Frank and Pete have only broken fingers. It doesn’t worry him though. Improv is essentially one hundred percent bullshit and role playing is just improv with orgasms. Just like in improv, it’s all about confidence. If you’re certain you’re funny the audience is likely to laugh. If you pretend you know the facts of lumberjacking or lawyering the other person is more likely to want to continue the scene rather than point out errors.

“I’ve spent so long immobilised, I’d really like to not be sick when I’m finally free of this thing,” he replies, gesturing.

“Then it’s good you’ve come in.”

Mikey stands and strides to the set up in the corner of the room. It’s a set of upper and lower cupboards with a sink attached to the end of the unit. He doesn’t expect Imagine to have all possible gear. There’s a place on Baum that specialises in medical play, and a lot of other niche slants have their own places, but Imagine is more general. Still, knowing what he can use will make the scene run smoother.

In one of the drawers of the cupboard are several sizes of disposable plastic speculums. It gives Mikey an idea, a direction for the play. 

“Is your living area particularly dusty? If you’ve been stationary in a unhygienic residence, your sinuses could be” Mikey barely prevents screwed from leaving his lips “impaired.”

“It’s kinda hard to dust when you’re on crutches.”

“I understand. I’m just going to take a look.” 

He picks up one of the smallest pieces of white plastic and rips open the cellophane covering. He’s never had much of a chance to look at them, being on the receiving end. It’s like a pair of pliers, with a tiny traffic cone on the end. Mikey slides the tip into his nasal cavity and lightly squeezes the handles. The tip opens inside Erik, and his breath stutters. On the right track, then. 

He repeats the procedure with the other nostril then pulls the instrument away and tosses it in the medical waste bin. He takes a moment to tell Erik he’s all clear, a sort of relieved smile meeting the statement. Mikey gives him the smallest one back. Clear sinuses are good, but they’re hardly done.

“Have you been having regular bowel movements Erik?”

“Um. Yeah?”

Mikey frowns. “It’s really important you be honest with me.”

“Not as much as before?” He hastens to add, “but I’m probably not eating as much or something.

“We’ll discus your lack of appetite in a moment. But first, if you could take off your pants and underwear? You can leave your shirt on.”

Mikey doesn’t watch as the patient strips. It would hardly be professional. When he turns around again Erik is already laying on the padded table. “I’ll need you to spread your legs. It’s very important you not move. If you feel this is going to be an issue I can restrain you.”

Erik shakes his head. “No doctor, I can handle it.”

The lubricant is medical grade. Or at least Mikey assumes it is. It’s not in a neon capped bottle that smells like fruit anyway. He pulls out a pair of gloves from the cardboard box of five hundred sitting beside the sink, then unscrews the lid. Mikey’s not used to doing this with gloves on; it’s harder to tell if he has enough when he can’t feel it slicking his fingers. But that’s sort of the point. He doesn’t want to get used to anything sexual. He lines his fingers up index and middle and pushes in. 

The lack of covering shows him the patient is hard, face blushing pink. Mikey looks on him kindly. “I assure you, it’s a normal response. It doesn’t mean anything.”

After a minute of stretching, Mikey feels confident that it’s safe to press the edge of the speculum against Erik, then push in. Erik’s biting his lip, so Mikey puts his hand on his stomach lightly as reassurance. He slowly turns the screw that opens the blades, not stopping until they’re at their widest. Mikey’s not great at estimating, but he’d say it’s probably nearly three inches. Mikey knows it from the other side, the brilliance of a stretch like that. Maybe he’ll come back in a week or two and try again for being the patient.

Against Mikey’s instruction Erik starts to move, bucking up into the air. He mutters “oh God, oh God,” and shoots his load like a fucking geyser. Mikey smiles. It’s a case well managed.


End file.
